The monster stood in front of the third Gentleman, who rocked back and forth in the dirt, singing this quiet little song, a chant almost, in a language I couldn’t decipher. It was like he was praying, like he was singing last rites for himself, like he was preparing himself to die.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I could only lie there and watch.

The monster took his long fingernail and slit the third Gentleman’s chest open, a long gash like from a surgeon’s knife, and blood flowed from his wound, blackening his clothes. The monster bent over his body and shoved both palms into the wound, cracking the sternum, prying the ribs apart. The monster plunged its fist into the wound and pulled out the third Gentleman’s heart. It lifted the heart, still beating, up to the moon as some kind of offering, as a tribute to the sky and stars, the Milky Way and Mars and the cosmos, the whole universe watching.

And I watched as the monster ate the third Gentleman’s heart, swallowing it, sucking the heart down its throat.

Chapter 32

It was late when I finally woke up, the sound of rain and thunder booming. The sky was dark, and I realized I’d slept through the whole day.

I thought I’d still be hungover from the booze and the visions, but I felt weirdly great. I guess Grandma’s health juice or whatever really did the trick.

Pretty soon I heard Murphy bounding up the stairs, and she banged on the door like she was trying to knock it off its hinges. I got out of bed and unlocked the door and let her in.

“He is risen,” she said and laughed a little. “Feel up for dinner?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Surprisingly.”

“Good,” she said, “because Grandma made a fucking feast.”

“I believe it,” I said. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll be right there.”

Murphy wasn’t kidding about it being a feast. I mean, Grandma had cooked us the biggest dinner I’d ever had—pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, this weird lemon asparagus bacon wrap thing, and parmesan risotto, with banana pudding for dessert. For whatever reason, I was starved. I ate until I thought my eyes would roll back in my head. Murphy polished off three servings herself. I’d never eaten so much in my life.

“Now get some rest, children,” said Grandma. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“More chores?” said Murphy. “Or do we have to go back to the creepy-ass village?”

Outside thunder rumbled, and the windows flickered with blue lightning.

“Whatever we’re doing,” I said, “it’ll be a whole lot nicer in the sunshine. Hope this storm passes.”

“Me too, Lee, dear,” said Grandma. “Good night, children.”

Grandma kissed us both on the cheek and left, humming to herself.